Hot Afternoon

 Yesterday I met some friends from the village to discuss planning an open day for the new pond. It was a case of mixing work with pleasure as the meeting took place in a dappled green garden under the trees, with wine glasses and beers in our hands.

It’s felt that my holiday has just been extended by several days .

I’ve agreed to help manage the Flower Show again and next year it ( as well as the novelty vegetable photograph competition so enjoyed by blog readers ) shall return. 

It felt the right thing to do.

Last night I caught up with my family again for a Spanish supper in my sister in law’s garden. 

It was her first dinner party post lockdown, another milestone for her, and a pleasure for us as she cooks very well. 

So today is a non day as I’m working a single shift tonight.

It’s far too hot to walk the dogs more than 100 yards which makes Dorothy listless and sulking.

I’ve already sat her under a cold shower earlier and now she smells of body shop pink Grapefruit soap but is still unhappy at not being able travel in the car.

I gave her the meat from a left over lamb chop in an effort to buck her up but that failed miserably 

Roger arrives on Monday

I wonder what that little bombshell will have on the bulldog diva.

To Kill A Mockingbird

 

I met Nu in a cocktail bar on Frith Street (she had picked it as it was air conditioned) we then went along to Suvvlaki the best Greek restaurant in soho where we ate Greek tapas to die for , sat at an open window facing the street and watched the world go by.

I still felt as though was on holiday

We walked into Chinatown where we ate obscene ice creams at bubble wrap waffle before the theatre

Bliss

Most of us of a certain age have grown up with the goodness that is Atticus Finch in To Kill A Mocking Bird, 

His quote 

“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view...until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.”

is one that follows a person through life, even though he was a fictitious lawyer in a non existent Southern town.

To Kill A Mocking Bird was not without its faults and I wondered how these would be addressed to a modern audience, most of whom loved the book as a child and saw it through a child’s eyes.

Aaron Sorkin’s production is a bold interpretation with the famous court scene divided into segments sandwiched in between the growing up stories of Scout and Jem Finch and their best friend Dil in rural Alabama.

Rafe Spall is no Gregory Peck in the lead role as Atticus. He isn’t polished and serene, and hasn’t that quiet heroic look.But his small town lawyer, is gentle, and humorous and brittle enough to still cry at the mention of his wife’s death. He is more flawed that his screen counterpart, but still retains those decent qualities most loved by Harper Lee’s fans.

The three children of the story are all played by young adults, and this works well thanks  primarily to the actors playing Scout and Dill. Gwyneth Keyworth is exceptional as Scout, ad-libbing with the audience in her broad Southern drawl when they were late in settling down and David Moost, who gives Dill an odd sense of a young, very camp Truman Capote ( he was Harper Lee’s Best friend) 

In the novel the housekeeper come nanny, Calpurnia didnt quite have a proper voice when the unfairness of racism was raised but Sorkin’s Calpurnia is not adverse in challenging even Atticus in his beliefs and behaviour and in one pivitol scene screams out what she thinks of the all white Jury who are sitting in judgement of Robinson ( a wonderful Jude Owusu)

The actress Pamela Nomvete turning from hired help to a roaring lioness impressively.

The new play has a great deal to say about the America, that still exists , most noticeably seen in the Trump years. Those disaffected and mistrusting of intellectual contact.

To kill A Mockingbird was a triumph , and a real rollercoaster of a play to experience.

It is one which will linger in the mind for a long while to come 

Told Off

 Mrs Trellis told me off this morning for watering the planters in the heat of late morning.

I apologised but told her as I was going to London today it was the only time I could do so.

She pursed her lips 

“ Another holiday? She asked.

I knew she was pissed at me, I can always read the signs now 

She has vocalised before that sometimes I leave the dogs too often with Trendy Carol and her hubby

I reminded her that I was only away overnight

A treat for my birthday.

She pulled the brim of  her white laced sun hat down and walked on with a warning “ Keep out of the sun”

The girls down at Trendy Carol’s barked their welcome at the garden gate and she stopped to coo at them

I hate being in Mrs Trellis’ bad books

It’s like being told off by a favourite aunt

She reminds me of Calpurnia, Atticus Finch’s housekeeper in some ways

 “She’s a faithful member of this family and you’ll simply have to accept things the way they are...Besides, I don’t think the children have suffered one bit from her having brought them up. If anything, she’s been harder on them in some ways than a mother would have been… she’s never let them get away with anything”

I took her advice and dressed in shorts and T shirt I’m sat on the train southwards. Apparently it’s 90 degrees in the capital so shorts will have to do for the Theatre 

I’m not staying with Nu in West London but have booked the Z Hotel in Covent Garden

I need to be back home earlyish tomorrow as there’s a meeting about the village pond I promised to go to

God it's hot in London . Found a gay bar with outside seating for a beer. 

Just waiting for Nu

The Seekers - Georgy Girl (1967 - Stereo)

RIP Judith 

Chill

 

The sun and heat and occasional dousing by warm Mediterranean salt water has done great guns with my psoriasis knees , so much so that Dorothy actually looked disappointed when she gleefully tried to chop down on one when I eventually sat down on the couch after sleeping and housework and watering the garden and dropping round to give Old Trevor  some advice on analgesia.

This is the time when I don’t miss being in a relationship.

It’s lovely to be just me and the animals

I’m weary after my night shift coming so close to travelling back from Spain , so I’m mooching for the rest to the day.

Tomorrow I go to London

I’ve bought garlic doughballs for supper and a small box of Mac and cheese bites and after a dusk walk will drink my last beer and watch the hit Prey on Disney +

And share my supper with the girls 

Good Old Herb

 

My plane home was delayed but I refused to get all pissed off with it all as the easyJet staff were good humoured and helpful and our Irish pilot jovial and apologetic.

The car park didn’t charge me extra for the delay and after a confusing wiz around the new roadworks near Widnes I finally got home in Wales  at 2.30 am.

I can’t sleep, even though I’m still on Sitges time so I ve grabbed a beer out of the fridge and set up a gift Janet gave me. A metal silhouette of Sitges church  which I thought was rather sweet.

It will look nice with a candle behind it

I’ve just been reviewing the last day listening to Herb Alpert on YouTube.

I went back to the bar where I saw Greta the diva at lunchtime Sunday but sadly she wasn’t there. 

I stayed and had a beer and a somewhat dry Caesar Salad and watched the gay Sitges Promenade by.

It’s a kind of mincing Disney land at times …

And not really very real at all 

Homeward Bound

 Home later today after a whistlestop visit.

My family are all staying on for much of the week.

Although I know the train system well. I will book a taxi to the airport

The girl from Ipanema is playing in the restaurant this morning

The Plaster For Most ills

 

Tim with Sitges friend 2018

Like most families, mine can be slightly unpredictable when arranging a meet. 

Someone is distracted and is late, someone wants to eat early, someone forgot the time, someone( like me) is invariably early. 

I’ve learned to go with the flow. 

We generally all get together when we need to.

Last night was my brother in laws birthday. We all arranged to meet at our usual table for 8.30 pm so I donned my second best I love Sheffield  T shirt and went out to a gay bar around the corner from La Santa Maria for an early drink beforehand .

Minutes later I was talking to Greta, a rather shopworn and heavily made up German lady in her seventies.

She was sat at the bar reading a Spanish magazine.

Initially I thought she was in drag but as it turned out darlings she was indeed a elderly Austrian former Opera Singer from Barcelona. 

All this information I gleaned moments after she referred to my T shirt 

“Sheffield…I sang there in the 1980s, It was a beautiful city as I recall” she sang out 

Now Sheffield, in the 1980s as anyone from the iron city would tell you , wasn’t very pretty at all and after a bit of banter I actually found out that Greta had in fact sang at the Grand Theatre in Leeds and had been a chorus singer on stage for over thirty years, most of it at the Opera houses in Barcelona and Valencia.

“I was never disciplined enough to be a good performer “ Greta confided “ Too much good living” 

She tapped her glass and I bought her a beer

“ it’s too hot for anything stronger” she confided and she waved amiably at a group of gay men who were getting up to leave their table all of whom waved back and blew her kisses.

“ The Gays love Opera! “ she explained. 

She chatted about Montserrat Caballé, who she said was always delightful to the “chorus folk” and talked fondly of her funeral which she said was supported by the Spanish Royals indeed.

I found her an absolutely delightful character and would have stayed longer if I hadn’t somewhere to go

When I stood to leave she asked me if I was meeting a young man and I told her I had family to catch up with

“ Ah family” she emoted wistfully, the bangles on her thin arms jangling loudly

“ The Plaster for most ills” 

And she waved me goodbye

I go back home tonight. 

It’s been a lovely 72 hours or so….and Greta was right…..family is the plaster for most ills in the world 

In the restaurant , The die hards proved that last night when we drank the last drinks of a honest evening

Sharing stories, until then untold, around the safe dinner table 

( written 0022 Monday 8th)